Please Stay Forever With Me
by Alice D'Arque
Summary: Destiel (some sabriel) Feat. Punk!Cas and Punk!Dean Dean Winchester was the new kid in town, followed around and idolized by his little brother Sam. Castiel was the town's well-known badboy, caught in a multitude of town drama, all rumors centering around the player. But when Dean moves next door and sparks fly, their love and dedication will be put to the test.


Paste your

Love. It's a funny idea, a tad unusual. It can be like a hurricane, violent and quick, the damage long-lasting after it leaves; or it can be like the sun, pulsing and constant, even when it's not visible to the eye. Some say it's the people who make love unusual, for it has different manifestations for every soul; and sometimes others find some manifestations of love to be wrong due to uncontrollable truths. Family, age, race, and gender have created rifts between possible happiness, causing unendurable, seemingly endless pain for no apparent reason; because love isn't always beautiful and constant. Love is a seed, it needs to be nurtured by both souls equally, or it dies in its stages of infancy; the roots leaving scarred hearts, clouded eyes, and jaded souls. Not all stories have happy endings, so revel in the moment of that one small piece of eternity.

The box was pulled from its hiding spot and carried gently, as if it were a box of the purest gold, carrying the world's most precious treasures. The box was gently placed into the lap of the owner, who stroked the tattered, dirty brown cardboard hesitantly, almost fearfully. With slightly shaking hands, the box's worn flaps were opened, signaling this ritual has happened many times before. To an outsider, the box (containing nothing more than a small photo, a stack of torn letters, a necklace, and a thumbtack) would merely be a dirty box filled with junk; but to this man, the box and its contents were his whole world. A small, sad smile softly formed on the owner's stubbled face, as those genteel hands removed a small folded photograph from the box. Two whiskey-coloured eyes scanned the photo hungrily, as if this was to be the last time he could revel in that small moment of happiness. His eyes raked over his own profile but paused over the dark-haired boy standing next to him. In the photo, the two teenage males stood, neither smiling at the camera, but instead smiling at each other. Both boys were staring with an odd expression, a mix of pain and happiness. The dark haired boy was a tad more reserved with his smile, but his impossibly cerulean eyes were filled with summer warmth that could melt icecaps. The owner of the picture gently stroked the dark-haired boy's profile. A scratchy whisper, broken and filled with a crushing weight cried out softly into the silence, filling the night with anguish from the single name that passed his lips.

"_Cas_..."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Fifteen Years Later

**Dean's POV**

"Here we are boys, our new home." Dad announced as we pulled into a weed-choked driveway in front of a, for lack of a better word, shack. My brother and I just stared at our father, disbelief evident upon both our faces. I knew Dad's job as a travelling salesman wasn't exactly raking in the big money, but we surely could've afforded better than this. The wood paint was faded and peeling, the lawn was dangerously overgrown, the porch was rotting and probably infested with termites, and the roof looked one raindrop away from collapsing.

"Here?" Sam croaked, his voice cracking slightly as the denial formed in his eyes like a thundercloud. Dad looked everywhere but us as he fought for an explanation he thought we would buy.

"It's all we could afford, boys. You know my job doesn't pay well, and after the fire that killed your mom-," he began, his bloodshot eyes swimming with crocodile tears before i cut him off, anger making me see red.

"You mean your "job" of gambling all our money away and drinking until you're too drunk to count to three?" I snapped, jumping out of the car. I sent an apologetic look to Sam before I snagged my backpack and slammed the door shut, muttering an apology to the car before i bounded up the broken stairs and slamming the screen door shut. I was so sick of it all; the constant moving, the loneliness, the new schools with each one being shittier than the last, putting my father's drunk ass to bed every night, having to raise Sammy up right so he didn't have to live like this when he leaves. I hopped into the first bedroom I saw and slammed the door, dropping my bag onto the floor and fell into the dusty bed, shutting my eyes. Before I drifted off, a sharp tapping sounded at the door.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was muffled slightly by the wood, "Dad says we need to come outside and greet the neighbors. They have kids our age... and a girl."

Immediately I sat up. "What kind of girl?"

"Code 7.5," there was a pause, "Jerk." I could almost hear Sam's smile.

"Bitch," I retaliated, flinging open the door and running out with Sam. He headed straight for the boy his age, but I saw no one else.

"Hello," said a deep voice behind me. I turned and was met with the blue eyes of my new neighbor.


End file.
